Colliding Stars
by BouncingKappa
Summary: Leonard McCoy doesn't trust much in this universe and that includes Doctor Stella Gable, his newest surgeon. Stella has spent the last two years running from the events of Narada that left her an unfortunate survivor. They are two stars on a direct collision course, spiraling down a path that will test their faith in themselves and in each other, leaving no room for love, right?
1. Prologue

**Hello all – I've been wanting to post this for a while and just now got around to it! I'm hoping this story will be a little different from other Bones/OC fics out there, especially when it comes to thoroughly developing Stella and her relationship with Bones. **

**Disclaimer – I don't own Star Trek! **

Prologue

John Santori stared through the one sided mirror partition. A soft hum from the computer equipment behind in filled the small observation room, thrumming softly into his ears. He didn't know why, but the sound comforted him as he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. From where he stood, he could see into the main examination room where a young woman sat on a sleek white bio bed, her legs dangling over the side.

Aside from the bed, the woman, and a computer terminal there was nothing else in the room. The walls were stark grey and the canned lights overhead glowed softly over the woman's rich chocolate brown hair. Her hair was pulled away from her shoulders, tied into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. The white hospital gown she wore practically blended into her ashen skin, marred by several nasty bruises.

"Has she said anything at all?" He asked, and absently spun his wedding ring on his finger. For the last five minutes she'd hardly moved, he could just barely see the rise and fall of her chest. "About what happened?"

"Nothing," a clinical voice replied behind him. John swiveled to look at Doctor Quin'tar. The chief of Starfleet Academy Hospital approached the mirror and shook his head, his dark eyes focused on the woman. "She won't speak, she barely eats and every night she wakes up screaming. It's been a long time since I've seen post-traumatic stress this bad."

John cursed under his breath and shook his head. The woman moved, she lifted her head and stared up at the mirror. Brilliant, blazing grey eyes popped from her pale skin. Even from his distance John to see the dark ring that looped around her irises, one of her hands rubbed up and down her forearm, bared by the hospital gown. "Will she recover?"

"Eventually," said Quin'tar. "Though she'll probably never get over it, I don't see how any of the survivors will get over it. I've put together a list of recommendations for her, but you're not going to like any of them."

Frowning, John turned away, unable to look at the woman as she picked at the hologram hospital bracelet on her narrow wrist. "Well, lay them on me anyway," he replied, resigned to hear out the options.

"It's my professional opinion that she should spend the next four weeks in intensive rehabilitative therapy."

John nodded and continued to toy with his wedding ring, wishing that he could walk into that room and shake her back to reality. But he knew this was coming, from the very second she'd stumbled off the transport shuttle, covered in blood and half-crazy John knew this was going to be an uphill battle. "I figured that much. Do you think she'll ever be ready for duty aboard a starship?" He enquired, trying to dig down to the heart of the matter.

Quin'tar didn't say anything for a long time. John went back to watching her, she was still toying with the hospital bracelet and he could see that in the last two weeks she'd lost weight she didn't have to lose. "No."

"That's not good enough," said John suddenly, fiercely. That girl had been slated for the _Enterprise_, she was supposed to join with the best crew in Starfleet, she should have been preparing for that assignment, preparing her research and honing her skills in surgery. "Doctor Gable needs to be ready for assignment, I don't care what it takes."

"John," said Quin'tar, a sense of urgency coming to his voice. "Think about what you're saying. Now I know how you feel, losing Stella this way has hurt me too. She was my star pupil and she's in there somewhere but right now she's an unholy mess. Even if I could reach her I don't think it would do much good, think about what she's been through. Think about what she did."

Nobody had to tell Admiral John Santori twice about what Doctor Gable went though. He'd heard the stories from the survivors and seen the inside of the shuttle. Her bloody handprints were still on the airlock divider, and her surgical tools were sitting on a tray in his lab. Starfleet investigations took her bloody clothes and all of the rest of the evidence into custody. Rumors were circulating fast among the high ranking officers about her and the rest of the small group of shuttles that managed to escape the _Narada_. "All the more reason, I don't want her to let this rule her for the rest of her life, she's only twenty-seven. Even if you think she needs to go to a border planet halfway across the galaxy Quin'tar do it. Stella is still a valuable asset to Starfleet. She'll make an excellent teacher and she's going to be a world-class surgeon."

Quin'tar sighed. "I'll take it all under advisement, John. And I'll do what it takes. I know you want her on the _Enterprise_, I know you want her on the long range mission that everyone keeps whispering about." Johns fingers curled into tight fists. "But John, you need to prepare yourself."

Shaking his head, John shook off the warning and he approached the mirror again. Then, as if Doctor Stella Gable knew someone was on the other side her head snapped up. Cracked pink lips parted in slight surprise and her pupils dilated. John's eyes were pained as he took in her hollow cheeks and his eyes raked up to the most damning evidence of all. A brilliant white scar slashed its way along her hairline, running from her temple all the way to her ear. It marred her good looks and would always serve as a reminder of her ordeal.

"She'll bounce back," said John grimly, but even he wasn't sure he believed himself. Without another word he strode out of the observation room, leaving behind him the devastated shell of a woman.

**Let me know what you think! Much love - Kappa**


	2. The Last Sunrise

**A/N: This chapter features first meetings and snarky Bones!**

**Disclaimer – I don't own Star Trek, I do own Stella Gable!**

Chapter 1

Leonard McCoy's eyes flickered from the PADD in his hand to the man sitting behind a glass desk. Disbelief colored his features and he stared back down at the PADD again. When he'd been called in to discuss personnel matters for the _Enterprise_ Medical Bay, Leo assumed that Admiral John Santori wanted his input on filling the holes in his nursing staff, lab technicians, selecting interns, and replacing Dr. Annabeth Perse's vacancy. He'd thought they would discuss the resumes Leo spent the last two weeks pouring over.

He was halfway right. The first portion of their meeting included lining up three new nurses, bickering over qualifications for his lab techs and finally choosing two interns. Emma Eams and Javier Grayson were at the top of their Starfleet class, and although Leo hated taking on interns, he didn't have much of a choice. So when the conversation turned to filling the most important spot, the spot of a surgeon, Leo had his top three lined out.

"John," he growled, glad that they were comfortable enough to drop formalities. "You can't be serious." Leo looked down at the name on the PADD and the myriad of words that jumped out from her professional and psychological evaluations.

"I'm dead serious Leo," replied John, locking his dark eyes on his one time student, now friend. Leo frowned and stared back, unable to fathom why he hadn't been given a choice in the matter. He'd always had input on staffing choices for the _Enterprise_ Medical Bay. John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment. Normally Leo felt comfortable speaking freely in front of his commanding officer, but right now anything he had to say was not going to be kind.

Shaking his head Leo stared back at the PADD. Severe post-traumatic stress. Four weeks in intense rehabilitation. Sedatives required for interstellar travel. Panic attacks. Flashbacks. Emotional trauma. Authority issues. "I'm not comfortable with this," said Leo at length.

"You're only looking at the bad things from two years ago. Our best psychologists and doctors have cleared her as physically and emotionally fit for duty." Leo's eyes dropped to the bar on the screen listing recent reports. He tapped it and the file opened. The notes, dramatically improved, still made him nervous and upset.

Sighing, Leo held the PADD slightly aloft. "Doctor Gable possess a cool head in a crisis situation. She has been instrumental in treating a viral outbreak to the Alpha base, treating combat induced injuries and in the diagnoses and treatment of not less than five new subplanet tropical diseases," Leo read aloud but he didn't stop there. "That being said, Doctor Gable still shows signs of lingering post-traumatic stress disorder and is prone to panic attacks. She has not seen the inside of an operating room since her arrival on planet. It is my professional opinion that the trauma Doctor Gable experienced in the aftermath of the _Narada_ event will prevent her from ever operating again."

The silence that hung heavily over the room was deafening. John leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's Doctor Burani's report?" The Admiral enquired, referring to a particularly off-keel Betazoid psychiatrist that bounced from planet to planet evaluating the mental health of border Starfleet bases. Leo nodded and scrolled to the next report, slightly better, but not great. "Burani is an idiot, Leo, we both know that."

Leo snorted in poorly-veiled laughter. He knew better than to insult one of his superiors, but privately he agreed. Burani's cynicism made Leo look like a basket of puppies set beneath a rainbow. "John, you realize you're sticking me with a surgeon who hasn't performed a single surgery in two years? Now if she hasn't picked up the scalpel in that time period, what makes you think she's going to do it now?"

John chewed over Leo's words for a long time, pressing the tips of his fingers together. While he did that, Leo's eye wandered around the office. The warm lighting softened the harsh standard Starfleet office furniture. Leo didn't like all the hard metal and angles, he thought longingly to the old cherry desk that stood in the study in his Georgia house. One day, he promised himself, one day he'd be back on this rock for good and he could relax behind that desk. "Did you ever meet Stella when you were at Academy?"

Shaking his head, Leo returned his attention to John. The man wore a weary, nostalgic expression on his face, recalling a different time. A time when Starfleet wasn't under the constant threat of war. A time before _Narada_, a time before Khan. Wincing, Leo looked out the window, construction on several Starfleet buildings was almost complete, from John's vantage he could see the memorial for the fallen. "No," he replied.

Turning his mind back to the conversation Leo sighed. He'd heard the name Stella Gable before. It was hard not to hear the rumors surrounding her, just another reason he was hesitant to have her in his Medical Bay. "Well you should have. Stella was, is," corrected John. "An excellent physician and she is one of the finest surgeons I've ever seen. She's just as good as you, Leo, maybe even better."

It was a nice attempt at flattery. "Hell John, half the surgeons in Starfleet are as good as I am," said Leo brushing it off.

It was John's turn to roll his eyes and he got to his feet. "You're full of so much shit, Leo," he responded and to this Leo chuckled. So they were to that portion of the meeting. John ambled to the right side cabinet that framed the shelves behind his desk. He opened up to reveal a silver tray with several bottles of liquor and four glass tumblers. John fixed two glasses of good Irish whiskey.

"Look I don't doubt that she's good, you wouldn't put someone in my sickbay who wasn't but I _need _a surgeon. And if she can't pick up a scalpel without having a damn panic attack, then Doctor Gable has no business on the _Enterprise_." Leo took a deep drink of his whiskey, savoring the burn as it slipped down his throat.

Words from her file popped out at him. A degree in biochemistry and xeno-biology from UT. Medical degree from Vanderbilt. Graduated fourth in her class from Starfleet Academy. Commendations in the development of fast dispersing cures for blood borne alien pathogens. Hale Williams prize for outstanding surgical performance. "I'll make a deal with you, Leo," said John holding his glass beneath his chin. "Six months probationary period. Give Doctor Gable six months, and if she doesn't exceed your expectations then I'll transfer her and you can have Doctor Stahll like you wanted."

Damn that man! How did he always know Leo's top picks before he could get them out. In the grand scheme of things six months wasn't that long, and it was a fair compromise. Even Leo could deal with a half-crazy doctor for six months, he'd just have Head Nurse Pratchett deal with the woman. "I'll take that deal, if you put her in third position, behind Doctor Bodie."

John leaned back in his leather chair and he lifted his glass in agreement. "Cheers," he said and Leo nodded. He glanced at the PADD and looked wearily at the locked information. "I'm not going to tell you what happened during the _Narada_ incident, it's Stella's story to tell and when she's ready, she'll tell you." Leo frowned but nodded. He stared pensively into his whiskey and wondered if he was making a massive mistake, agreeing to this insane assignment.

"Five years in space," he muttered to himself. "God help me."

Sunrise. The brilliant symphony of colors swirled across the sky, singing a perfect song in blues, violets, oranges, pinks, and yellows. The sun broke over the tree line, pouring light over the deck, casting brilliant colors on the stained wood surface. Beams of fresh sun danced over the ocean surface, sparkling like a sea of diamonds as the waves lapped the shore. Morning announced itself in the most dazzling way possible.

The lone occupant on the deck took it all in, her wide grey eyes drinking in the beautiful scenery. Wrapped in a thick afghan blanket, Stella Gable kept her long legs tucked up against her chest. She curled her fingers tighter around her coffee cup and let her eyes rake over the stunning morning. In a few short hours she would have to leave all of this behind, but for now she couldn't stop savoring the sunrise. Her last morning on earth for five years. Stella could scarcely believe she was about to give all of this up.

She sipped her coffee and listened to the gulls that swooped over the water. Setting her coffee cup on the wide arm of her chair, she began to turn the rose gold ring she wore on her finger. The rose gold looped her finger and she toyed with the small, flat oval top, bearing her monogram. "Stells?" A voice drifted from behind her. "Breakfast is ready."

Lifting her head, she turned to see her twin brother standing in the doorway. Lewis folded his arms casually over his chest and jerked his head towards the inside of the house. Squinting her eyes, Stella nodded and slowly unfurled her legs. Placing her bare feet on the deck she looked at the wood and wondered how long it would be before she was surrounded by anything other than Starfleet issued floors, walls, furniture, and décor. The thought didn't appeal much to her.

Not that anything about her new assignment excited her much. Still cocooned in her blanket, she took her coffee with her and padded inside her brother's beach house, inhaling the smell of her favorite breakfast casserole, sausage, blueberry bread, the whole nine yards. Stella smiled and shook her head. "You know there's no way I can eat all of this, right?"

Lewis chuckled, but loaded her plate anyway. "Says the girl who could eat an entire large pizza by herself." Rolling her eyes, Stella draped her blanket over the back of an empty chair and sank into the chair next to it.

"I haven't been able to do that since I was in my early twenties, which in case you haven't noticed, are long gone." Lewis set her plate down and despite her protests, she dug into the food, savoring her last home cooked meal for the foreseeable future. "I love that you're a chef," she muttered through a mouthful of blueberry bread.

Lewis shot her a disgusted expression. "Did they teach you to eat like a heathen while you were on Melkanthor?" He wondered out loud. She answered him with her middle finger and he gave a sharp bark of laughter. "That's real sweet Stells, no wonder you're still single at twenty nine."

The mere mention of her marital status and age caused her to groan in depression. Stella swallowed her bite and reached for the mimosa sitting next to her plate. "Hmm because tramping through the jungle for two years had nothing to do with that," she muttered and he grinned at her.

"Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone on the _Enterprise_."

Stella almost spit out her mimosa. That violated almost every carefully constructed rule she'd set up. No, there would be no dating on the _Enterprise_ she told herself forcefully. At least nothing serious. "Hardly," she scoffed. "Besides I'm only going to be there for six months."

The mere though of her six-month probation stung. John Santori candidly told her that not only was her assignment mandatory but it was probationary. If, at the end of her six months Stella wanted to leave or she failed to meet her CMO's expectations then she could transfer elsewhere. Preferably to Earth, she thought, or back to Melkanthor. A part of Stella longed for the sticky tropical air and days spent learning native medicine and using native element extracts to craft rapid dispersal vaccines. "You don't know that," said Lewis reasonably and not for the first time. "Who knows you may get on board and love it."

Stella cast her stormy gaze back to the stunning morning outside, her heart ached to keep her feet on the ground. "Fat chance," she muttered.

Screams echoed in the back of Stella's mind, distorted shouted her name and blurred and twisted until she could hear only hers. Closing her eyes she took a sharp breath. In the back of her mind Stella could see her blood covered hands, beating against the airlock partition. Another sharp breath. Trembling fingers reached into a pulsing wound to hold the artery shut. Her chest sucked in deep. The artery burst, blood spurted everywhere, she could feel the warm spray across her face.

The lift door opened and Stella gasped for a breath, breaking the surface and coming back to reality. She clutched the PADD in her hand so tightly her knuckles were white and her fingertips ached. Her knees shook as she took a step forward, coming off the lift. Her eyes took in the sight but she couldn't comprehend the _Enterprise_ Medical Bay. With a great deal of force, she shoved the sounds of screaming and twisting metal and bones breaking back into the deep recesses of her mind.

"You must be Doctor Gable," a new voice reached Stella. Strict and clinical, the voice drug her back into real time and Stella gave a sharp shake of her head before her eyes focused. A woman stood before her, all of her blonde hair pulled into a strict bun. The grey and white nurse's uniform greeted Stella and slowly she nodded.

"Yes," she replied. "Reporting for duty."

The woman shifted the stack of PADDs in her arms and held out a hand. Stella wished her fingers weren't visibly shaking as she gripped the woman's hand. "I'm Head Nurse Amelia Pratchett, we're happy to have you," she said briskly. "I'm sure you've been briefed on your duties and Doctor McCoy's ahead orders?"

Stella's brain switched gears, jumping into her new position. "Yes," she answered as Nurse Pratchett let go of her hand and began to walk briskly away. Startled, Stella hurried forward, following the woman.

"Good, the last doctor in your position couldn't find her way out of a paper bag with a flashlight, and the CMO has very little tolerance for idiots. You're early too, good, I like that in a physician." Stella arched a dark eyebrow but said nothing about the nurse's unusual bedside manner. She'd heard rumors about her new CMO but never met the man in person, he'd been two years behind her at Academy. But it seemed he had a firm influence on every aspect of the shining Medical Bay. "Changing room is through here, your uniforms should already be hanging up, I told personnel to make sure they were ready." The door slid open to reveal a warmly lit room with a row of closets, each labeled with a nameplate. Hers stood at the end.

Opening the door she was relieved to find a row of neat blue dresses, two white coats, a spade of sleeveless black undershirts, and two sets of scrubs. Frowning she used to fingers to flick the scrubs to the far side of the closet. "So what's first?" Asked Stella, remembering the obnoxiously long list of orders that the CMO left her. As the only doctor currently on duty, Stella knew she was responsible for the whole Medical Bay, including wrangling nurses, controlling patient flow and ensuring that the sickbay was in top condition when the rest of the 'tenured' doctors, as she sarcastically called them, arrived. Blowing out another sigh, Stella felt the embarrassment needle her. A mandatory six month probation period on a ship she was supposed to be assigned to in the first place.

Pratchett, clearly accustomed to this kind of behavior, rattled off Stella's first duties while she stripped out of her awful gray flight suit. "The rest of the doctors will be arriving on the afternoon shuttle," she stated and then sighed. "All of the nursing staff is present and they are taking care of prepping the bio-beds for exams and setting out the necessary tools. You need to double check their work and sign off on their check-lists." Stella nodded and pulled the black undershirt over her head.

The collar came over and pulled her hair, leaving it a staticy mess. "Alright, what's next after that?"

"The flight crew need their fitness-for-duty physicals, as well as the few stragglers that didn't bother to get checked on earth." Stella hid a smile at the woman's sarcastic tone. "The interns will be here soon, you are responsible for ensuring that they get to work immediately. Their names are Doctors Grayson and Eams."

Stella stepped into the blue dress and shimmied it over her hips before fastening it at the shoulder. Thankful for the elastic at her wrist, she spun her long hair in a twist, turning it into a ballerina bun at the back of her head. "Alright," said Stella turning to Pratchett. "Let's get to work."

Twenty minutes later, Stella was whirling through the Medical Bay at a hundred to nothing. It turned out that the nursing staff was larger than Stella originally thought and meeting all of them took some time along with signing off on checklists and reviewing each of the primary bio-beds. By the time she'd managed to get through all of that, the line for crew member physicals was obnoxiously long. Vaguely she remembered this process when she served aboard the _Truman_ as an intern. It felt oddly comfortable and even nice to be busy at work and she fell into a familiar routine.

Pratchett stayed with her the entire way through, assisting her with the names of other nurses, helping her find the materials she was missing, showing her where things went and ensuring that every station was ready for the incoming doctors. At last Stella was ready to actually start being a doctor herself. The excuse about all the other doctors travelling to catch a later shuttle was complete bullshit, she thought grimly. If this wasn't a test of her abilities by the CMO, Stella would gladly eat her tri-corder.

Sighing, Stella brushed the sweep of her caramel hair from her eyes and looked at Pratchett. "Alright let's get them stacked on the five primary beds, have those waiting in line fill out their updated patient information and please have someone cross-reference any listed medications to ensure that we have enough on ship." Pratchett nodded but Stella could see the slightly impressed expression pass the Head Nurse's face, as though she wasn't expecting Stella to be so competent.

Of course she would think that, if there was a person in Starfleet Medical who didn't know Stella's name she'd be surprised. Everyone knew about half-crazy Stella Gable and her sad descent into madness. Fighting a shudder, she accepted a patient PADD from a waiting nurse and pushed the darkness off, back into the ragged hole in the center of her heart. Pain and panic thrummed around the frayed edges and dark tendrils of despair reached out, trying to grab her and pull her back in. Stella gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus.

The nursing staff exploded into a flurry of motion, Stella grabbed a tri-corder and walked up to her first crew member. Pulling the curtain half shut she smiled at her patient and looked down at his chart. "I'm Doctor Stella Gable, it's a pleasure to meet you Lietenant Commander Sulu," she said and he grinned, holding out a hand to her.

"So you're Doctor McCoy's latest victim," he said casually and Stella nodded, unsure how to take the statement. She flicked through his very satisfactory chart and then began to scan his temple. The readouts flowed onto the brand new instrument. If nothing else good came from the experience, Stella loved how fast the new equipment was.

"That's what I hear," she replied with a tight voice and he chuckled.

"Don't let the rumors scare you," he said amicably. "He's really not that bad."

Somehow that didn't comfort Stella and when she mentioned that Mr. Sulu laughed again and shook his head. She pressed the tri-corder to his chest, and had him take deep breaths. The readouts were good, his heart beat was regular, blood pressure excellent, and he had nice even breaths. They chatted idly while she finished her exam and once she pronounced him in good health he hopped down from the table, pulling his yellow shirt back on. "I know Doctor McCoy tends to send his doctors up for bridge duty," he said and shook her hand again, squeezing her fingers. "So I'm sure I'll see you soon."

Stella smiled at him, relieved to have finally met someone who didn't scare the daylights out of her. "Looking forward to it Mr. Sulu," she said and he strode off.

"Doctor Gable!" A harried voice called her name. Whirling around, Stella's mouth dropped open. Pratchett called her name again as she sprang to the side, to allow a trio of men come into the Med Bay. Seriously? She thought staring at the young man supported between two larger men. Two hours, she'd literally been on the ship for two hours and already someone was bleeding all over the floor. In a flash second she assessed the sleeve insignia and the head wound.

"Get that ensign on bio-bed one!" She barked pointing to where a nurse had just finished sterilizing it. Turning to Pratchett she sighed and looked at the floor. "Let's get that cleaned up before someone slips in it and I've got another head case to deal with." The strict woman's lips quivered and for a second Stella thought the woman was about to laugh. Instead she swallowed her humor and nodded, and started calling out orders.

Barely controlled chaos, thought Stella as she strode over to where the two men were still supporting the ensign, that was the only way she could describe this Medical Bay. She'd never seen anything like it. "What happened," she demanded briskly, reaching for a tri-corder and swinging the exam curtain shut all in one go. Both men shifted uncomfortably and Stella narrowed her eyes on the larger of the two. Security if she had her best guess, they had that burly meat head look about them. They were the type to lunk heavy weights in the gym and drop them on the floor with manly grunts to express their masculinity in the most obnoxious way possible.

Stella snapped on a pair of gloves while the two giants tried to string together a sentence. Turning her attention to the kid she sighed, he couldn't be more than twenty two, if that. Raising the scanner, she hovered it just above his temple and moved down the length of his face and then back. Vitals were fine, though his heart rate was elevated. Pursing her lips, Stella grabbed a little light and clicked it on. "We were unloading some cooling system repair kits," said the man. "I was tossing them down to Johnson," the large mans eyes flickered to his companion. "And he sort of got in the way."

The poor kid grimaced and Stella steadied his shoulder. "Ensign, focus on me?" She asked, concern etched into the delicate lines of her face. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "Cordero Vasquez," he muttered and Stella nodded. His dark curly hair was matted with blood, coming from the laceration on his skull.

"Nurse Pratchett!" Stella called. Almost immediately the woman appeared. "Will you please bring me a bio-sealant, dermal regenerator, antiseptic, some sterile gauze and ten CC's of Demerol?" Falling into a familiar, easy manner, she rattled off the orders and Pratchett raised an impressed eyebrow before disappearing. A half smile toyed at Stella's lips as she turned back to Vasquez. "Okay Cordero, please look at my finger, I'm going to shine this light in your eyes," she commanded, holding up her free hand.

Ensign Vasquez did as she instructed. His pupils dilated accordingly and at last a smile did touch your lips. "You're lucky ensign, no signs of concussion. I'm going to seal you up and send you off with a mild dose of painkillers. One pill every twelve hours as needed," she stated and just when he started to nod he stopped and Stella winced. "Yeah, you're going to feel like that for a couple of days, think of it as a hangover without the benefit of the night before."

Vasquez cracked a dazed smile and Stella turned her attention to the two security officers. "Please make sure that Mr. Vazquez makes it to his post," she ordered and both men snapped to almost attention, nodding at her commanding tone. Pratchett returned bearing a tray, her face was slightly white.

"Incoming," she muttered to Stella but the curtain was roughly cast open before she could react. A tall man practically appeared out of thin air, wearing a blue shirt and a thunderous scowl. Stella's mouth dropped open and she sprang out of the way, bumping into the security officer. He steadied her shoulders with his strong hands. What on earth just happened?

"You engineering eggheads can't be on this ship more than five minutes before breaking something can you?" The man growled and Stella's mouth opened even more, if possible. Who on earth had that kind of bedside manner? A hand gently gripped the back of Stella's elbow and she looked to see Pratchett.

McCoy, she mouthed. Stella's eyebrows flew up and she turned to see that he was performing the exact same tests she'd already done. So, she thought acidically, this was her CMO? "Excuse me Doctor, but I've already performed a pre-exam," she tried to insert but her statement fell on deaf ears. He snatched the tri-corder from the tray, running it along Vazquez's temple. At her words he stiffened and stopped.

The entire interaction happened so fast that Stella couldn't even comprehend it. McCoy turned a searing glare on her. "Doctor Gable I presume? Probationary doctors are not permitted to treat patients without supervision." He growled and then turned back to his work. A slap to her face would have been less surprising than the verbal whiplash she'd just received. Stella felt as though someone shoved a two by four up the back of her dress. Anger bubbled into her veins and she started to take a step toward him to tell him off when a vice grip closed over her upper arm.

Pratchett must have known Stella was about to raise holy hell because one second Stella was there, and the next she was being drug away from the scene. Another nurse ducked behind the curtain and shut it, leaving Stella still open-mouthed, mortified, and beyond insulted. "So, that's Doctor McCoy," said Pratchett and even her brisk manner dropped for a few seconds. The Head Nurse surveyed Stella warily, as though she thought Stella was about to start kicking and screaming on the floor.

In reality her mind was flying through the parts of the Medical Code that she knew. Unfortunately, Stella didn't know anything about the regulations regarding doctors on probation. Probably because it never occurred to her that she'd actually be stuck in such a position. "Charming," said Stella, not bothering to hide the acid in her voice. "So can I perform physicals? Or do I need someone to hold my hand through that too?" She wondered mostly to herself.

Pratchett shushed her in a motherly way and handed her the next PADD. Cheeks still flushed, Stella pushed back her next curtain and approached the navigation officer sitting on the bio bed. It took every ounce of her willpower to force the smile onto her face, but she managed to get through that physical and then another five more when Pratchett approached her. A handsome black man walked next to her, he was tall and very familiar to Stella. "Bodie?" She asked, slightly incredulous.

The man's lips parted in a brilliant, white smile. "It's good to see you Gable," he replied and held out a hand. Stella grasped it and the pair shook.

"I see you already know each other," said Pratchett.

Stella rubbed the back of her neck and nodded with a half-grin. "Bodie and I were in the same class at Academy. We were, well," her voice dropped off uncomfortably.

"Something along the lines of rivals," said Bodie with animated hands. But now his dark eyes were nothing but friendly and Stella found herself relieved to see even one familiar face. She knew that her Academy roommate was somewhere on the ship, but she hadn't had the time to connect with Carol Marcus, much less catch up with her. So Dean Bodie of New Orleans would have to do on the comforting sight front. "I heard you've been working on Melkanthor for the past couple," he said conversationally.

"Yeah," said Stella offhandedly. She wondered if he also knew her mortifying predicament. "It was wonderful." And truly it was, far better than her initial impressions of the _Enterprise_.

"Look, we need to catch up. I just read your paper on using natural root extract to counterbalance the nausea associated with most hyposprayed medications and I'd love to know more. But right now we should probably get to it." Stella nodded and just as she was about to reply her comm went off.

"Bridge to Doctor Gable, please report." Frowning, Stella shot an apologetic look to Bodie and then shrugged. Turning around she found Pratchett waiting for her. The woman handed Stella her transfer orders and an encouraging expression.

"The Captain just wants to meet you and sign your orders, that's all. Go on." Stella nodded and made to go when she realized that she didn't know her way around the ship. Under her voice, Pratchett told Stella where to go. Just as Stella stepped out the door she found herself walking next to someone else.

Flickering her eyes to the side, she sucked in a tight breath. Doctor McCoy walked next to her, he must have been summoned too. The grip on her PADD tightened and she found herself torn between wanting to say a million awful things and wishing the floor would just open up and swallow her whole. He pressed the button for the turbo lift and stood back, allowing her to step on first. Oh so he has elevator etiquette but not the tact to speak with her about her probationary status in private? That's rich, she thought acerbically.

Doctor McCoy said nothing and pressed the necessary buttons to get them to the bridge. Too angry to speak, Stella stood ram rod straight, holding the PADD against her chest. If she weren't fuming, Stella would probably find the situation humorous. Absently she touched her monogrammed ring and spun it on her finger. Blinking she felt the familiar rock of another flash. Two pairs of arms held her entire body back and she struggled against the hold. Blood covered her hands and several surgical tools littered the aluminum floor.

The tiniest of gasps sucked in a tight breath of cool air and Stella almost choked on it. If Doctor McCoy noticed her immense discomfort he said nothing. Thankfully the door opened and Stella had never been so relieved to get off a lift in her life. Sucking in another breath, Stella tried to clear her brain of those fuzzy thoughts. "Come along," muttered McCoy when Stella hesitated to come onto the bridge. Frowning, she followed him and they rounded a screen to reveal a man sitting in the captain's chair.

His appearance surprised Stella. Captain Kirk was far, far younger than she expected. Light brown hair styled away from his face in a manner that suggested he spent a great deal of time to make his hair look like he'd rolled out of bed. Bright blue eyes stared out towards the space station where the ship was still docked and Stella could see that he was practically bouncing with excitement. Well, at least one person was excited for a five year mission. "Bones!" The captain said enthusiastically as he spotted Doctor McCoy.

Stella couldn't help the caramel brow that slid up her forehead. Bones? What kind of crap nickname was that? "Captain," said Doctor McCoy, his voice seeming to hedge along the awkwardness that seemed to permanently surround Stella.

Captain Kirk's glance flew straight past Doctor McCoy and landed on her. His pupils briefly dilated as he took her in, not bothering to hide his wandering eye. The girly reaction was to blush, but Stella took it in stride, she'd heard plenty about Jim Kirk from Carol. "You must be Doctor Gable," he said and got to his feet, striding over to her. His gold shirt didn't leave much to the imagination on the Captain's physique. His lips arced into a shit-eating grin that Stella found adorable in a little boy kind of way.

"Sir," she said and accepted the hand he held out to her. The shook firmly.

"Welcome aboard," he said warmly and Stella found that, reputation aside, she liked his pleasant nature. "I believe I need to sign off on your transfer papers," he stated and Stella nodded. She placed the PADD in his open fingers and Captain Kirk held the object out, reviewing the limited information on her file. "Everything looks in order, I hope you'll be with us far longer than six months Doctor Gable," he added and Stella inclined her head. Privately she disagreed, but she wasn't about to say that to the ship's captain.

Captain Kirk signed off on her transfer. "Thank you, sir," she said and he grinned.

"I suppose now I'll leave you to Doctor McCoy's orders." Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Stella instead smiled and nodded at her captain before turning to face Doctor McCoy. For the first time she actually to him in and she sucked the smallest of breaths.

If not for the scowl seemingly permanently etched into his features, Doctor McCoy would have been a very handsome man. Dark brown hair was neatly cut and swept away from his face, revealing dark brows set over hazel eyes. He stared at her down his straight nose and his lips pursed into a deeper scowl. A light coat of stubble covered his masculine jaw and she could see the slight popping of his vein at his neck. "Report back to Medical, I'd like to meet with you before your first shift ends," said McCoy.

Stella knew a dismissal when she heard one and she whirled around, about to scuttle off the bridge when she saw a familiar face. Carol Marcus waved at Stella from her station and Stella couldn't help herself. She held out a hand to her only friend on the ship and Carol squeezed Stella's fingers. Her former roommate looked much the same, only with shorter hair. They made a silent promise to catch up as soon as possible. Stella stepped onto the lift and the last sight she saw of the bridge was Doctor McCoy's eyes watching her carefully and distrustfully. As soon as the doors shut she named Deck Five for the sickbay and turned, pressing her forehead against the cool wall.

"Why, why, why," she repeated over and over again. But just like last time and all of the times before, nobody answered.

**Next chapter will feature more characters and more confrontation! Leave some love! Much love - Kappa**


	3. First Impressions

**A/N: Hello all! Sorry for the delayed update! I've been insanely busy! **

**Thank you so, so much for the follows, favorite, and reviews! I'm so glad you guys are liking it so far! I'm definitely a fan of the slow burn and also of McCoy meeting a challenge and I'm glad that y'all feel the same way. **

**This chapter features punching bags, hangovers, and some setup for future events. These first few chapters are a little choppy in order to get some necessary set up out of the way, but the good stuff is coming!**

**Disclaimer – I don't own Star Trek, but I do own Stella and Pratchett!**

Chapter 2 – First Impressions

Upon her return to the Medical Bay, Stella found herself faced with a spade of more physicals and too many new faces to keep track of. Pratchett followed her with an odd dogged determination, almost as if her life's sole mission was to ensure Stella's successful first day. At length, Stella met the two interns that were to eventually fall under her charge. Doctors Javier Grayson and Emma Eams turned out to be exactly how Stella pictured them: fresh faced, over-eager, and in possession of just enough knowledge to be dangerous.

Stella kept a distant eye on the interns as they both stumbled their way through physicals, similarly shadowed by nurses of their very own. "So tell me, Nurse Pratchett, does McCoy always make such a stunning first impression?" Asked Stella as she handed another patient PADD to an orderly.

Pratchett's lips took a thin line. "You really should watch what you say," she warned. But Stella cast a sideways glance at the woman and could practically see the humor dancing in her strict green eyes. "And yes, that's fairly par for the course. The first time I met him he told me that if I had any notion of making an ass of myself by flirting with Captain Kirk then I might as well leave the interview because it was over."

Against her will, Stella's lips pulled into a grin. So, the rumors of Captain Kirk's reputation were entirely true. "Charming," she said sarcastically. She looked down at the PADD she'd accepted, a physical for a young security ensign. "Glad to know it's not just me though."

"Oh no," said Pratchett as they approached the bio-bed. "It's definitely not just you. In fact I imagine that every staffer in the Med Bay has their own charming version of how they met the good doctor." Stella coughed lightly to swallow her laughter and instead turned the force of her attention on Ensign Druillard.

The rest of her shift went that way, physical after physical, peppered with brief but enlightening conversation with Amelia Pratchett. As Stella's shift entered into its final hour, her limbs began to ache and a soreness settled into her lower back. On planet she'd been used to long days, but never moving around quite the way that a Starship medical bay required. Just as she finished her final physical of the day, Stella heard the main doors open. Lifting her eyes from the bio-bed, she watched as McCoy strode in, arms at his sides and shoulders ramrod straight.

Pausing, his eyes swept over the room until they landed on her. For a long second they stared at one another. Stella took stock of his tall stature and, admittedly, commanding presence. Silently she lamented again his apparent permanent resting expression was a scowl. In a few short strides he approached her. "A word, Doctor Gable?"

It took every muscle in Stella's face to keep her from arching an eyebrow at his tone. Irritation bristled in the pit of her stomach, working its way higher and higher. The last time she'd been spoken to that way was medical school. McCoy spun around and started walking toward another set of doors, assuredly his office. Keeping her stoic expression straight forward, she followed him, determined not to let her unhappiness show. The doors slid open and he gestured her inside.

Stella stopped in the middle of the room, standing a few feet from the front of his large desk. The metal and glass construction seemed to fit McCoy's general persona poorly. Taking a quick second to look around, she noted that the man had no pictures anywhere leading her to wonder if he had a wife or a family or anyone really. McCoy walked to the other side of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. Stella mirrored his posture, trying not to shrink under the weight of the silence.

"Admiral Santori didn't tell me much about you," said McCoy at last.

That didn't come as a galloping shock to Stella. Bowing her head slightly, she felt the shift of her long bangs and she raised her fingers to ensure her hair still covered her scar. "He didn't exactly say much about you either, sir," she replied unsure of how far she could test her boundaries.

McCoy's fingers began to reach for a PADD that sat on his desk. Narrowing her eyes towards the device, Stella felt her defenses rise. "Your resume is impressive," he said at length, his eyes glossing over the screen.

But somehow Stella got the feeling that McCoy wasn't all that impressed. Her hackles rose. "I'm sure that my resume is light reading compared to the rest of my file," she said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

McCoy raised a single eyebrow, but said nothing for a long time. "Most of your file is redacted," he said at length, keeping a careful eye on her. It took every muscle in Stella's body to keep from visibly slumping in relief. The mere thought of McCoy knowing those details made her stomach twist in a knot. "In fact, nearly all of your damn file is redacted."

To this, Stella had no response. She shifted her weight uncomfortably. Dr. McCoy sighed and tossed the PADD away from his desk. "So, you've been on Melkanthor for the past two years," he said at last.

"Yes, sir."

His scowl deepened and Stella fought the urge to smile. "And you didn't operate while on planet?"

Stella flinched. "No, sir."

In her chest, her heart began to beat harder. A familiar tingling began working its way up the tips of her fingers, thrumming in time with each painful thud of her ragged heart. "Well I'll be honest with you Dr. Gable, Admiral Santori assigned you to this ship against my wishes. The _Enterprise_ needs a surgeon, not another head case. So if, in the next six months, you don't see the inside of an operating room then you'll be looking for a new post."

Well, she hadn't expected that. Dr. McCoy's searing honesty struck the very nerve center of her insecurities. _What kind of surgeon doesn't operate_? The same question echoed in her mind, taunting her and needling at every last exposed nerve that Stella had. But over the past two years she'd learned to hide those insecurities behind a stony mask. Standing at sharp attention she nodded once. "Yes, sir."

McCoy's hazel eyes took in her expressionless face. "You're on probation at my request, Dr. Gable. So until I see fit to let you loose in my med bay, you are not to treat injuries or major illnesses without supervision."

Stella bit the inside of her cheek, swallowing the impressive string of colorful language she wanted to share with her commanding officer. For several painful seconds, McCoy evaluated Stella's reaction, as if fully expecting her to haul off and give him a piece of her mind. He'd love that, she thought sourly, all the more reason for him to haul her off this ship as soon as humanly possible. Determined not to let it show. Stella nodded curtly. "Yes, sir."

Running a hand over his tired face, McCoy shook his head. "Do you ever say anything else, Gable?" He enquired.

Stella bristled internally. "Is that all, sir?"

His face narrowed and Stella fought a smirk. "No, dismissed Gable."

X X X

Bracing her hands on her hips, Stella bent at the waist slightly and shook the sweat out of her eyes. Breathing hard, she bent her knees slightly and felt the steady, rapid beating her of her heart. Twenty first century rap music thumped into Stella's ears through her headphones and she bobbed her head long to the music. It was one of her guilty pleasures in life and she let the beat thrum into her veins, giving her more motivation.

She pulled on the end of the royal purple hand wrap that covered the majority of her left hand and wrist. Sweat coated her lower back, and down the front of her exposed upper chest. Another wave of anger and irritation passed over Stella as she thought about her past week and a half. Cursing under her breath, Stella thrust out with her left fist, striking the punching bag, hard.

Holding her hands up to guard her face, she circled the bag, dancing around it on her light feet. Rapidly she threw a series of punches at the bag, each hit expelling just a little more of her bad mood. Her long hair hung down her back in a braid and it swung about her body as she lashed out again.

Stella was having a hard time imagining her last forty eight hours going worse. Beginning with a huge stack of patient notes to review, engineering mishaps, and dealing with the open stares that the interns and Doctor Baye gave Stella were enough to drive her crazy. On top of it her last patient of the day came in complaining of nausea. A linguistics ensign, a young, scrawny redhead with acne, the poor kid couldn't hold himself together and he proceeded to vomit all over the floor, splashing her boots and bare legs. As a doctor Stella dealt with plenty of disgusting diseases, bodily conditions, and blood. But vomit was her one weakness.

"Damnit," she muttered to herself and in a swift, round movement she kicked the bag high, bringing her right leg back down only to throw her left fist back into the black surface.

To top it all off she couldn't seem to avoid Doctor McCoy. That smug son of a bitch southern jackass with a God complex would not stop looking as her as though she were about to explode. Never mind his insistence on monitoring her every chance he got or sending Bodie to follow her around like a lost dog. "Jerk," she muttered and danced around the bag, throwing sharp jabs as she did.

Air breezed through the overhead vent, blowing at the loose grey singlet she wore over a dark purple sports bra. Stella stopped again to take a brief break before dropping to the floor. She began her military pushups, doing a brief set before springing up to the floor and jumping high into the air. She dropped back down and repeated the process. With each push off the floor Stella felt better, as though she were literally pushing all of the negative energy out of her.

Because the truth was that with the exception of reuniting with her old roommate Carol Marcus, Stella hated everything about being on the _Enterprise_. She hated that she hardly had time for working out and for sleep, much less eating. Stella couldn't abide the terms of her six month probation. She hated being followed around like a small child. And if she was being really honest with herself, a tiny part of her hated Doctor McCoy for treating her with such utter disdain and dismissal, she wondered why he even bothered addressing her at all.

She was simply Gable to him, unlike the called Doctors Bodie and Baye by their professional titles. But he at least seemed to deign mild respect on Bodie and Baye. For Stella? He seemed to distrust her, and she privately wondered just how much John Santori told him.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm and returned to the punching bag. "Stupid southern jackass," she muttered. Perhaps if he treated her differently Stella could accept Doctor McCoy and his insane expectations and workload. But she didn't like being treated as though she were stupid or less than someone. She'd done her digging, and Doctor Leonard McCoy wasn't any better than she was, in fact if she had to put money down Stella would have bet that at one point she was a better surgeon than McCoy.

Just the mere thought of surgery threatened to pull Stella into a steep tailspin. Instead she hit the bag harder, unaware that the door to her practice room slid open. Carol sauntered into the room and her eyebrow immediately flew up. "Someone had a terrible day," she noted.

Startled, Stella looked up and saw her friend before her, wearing short shorts and t-shirt. "Hey Carol," she said and tried for a smile.

"You don't have to fake it with me," teased Carol and she waited while Stella unwound her wraps. "Although I did think you were going to wait for me," she noted with a slight note of sadness. Stella pursed her lips together and settled on an apologetic expression.

"I needed to start early," she explained. "I got thrown up on during the last ten minutes of my shift. I had to take a shower just so I could come and get sweaty again." It wasn't funny, or at least for Stella it didn't feel funny, but that didn't stop Carol from laughing.

"Sorry! I'm sorry it's not funny, but you are not having a good start are you?" Stella didn't answer immediately. Instead she rolled up her wraps and grabbed her water bottle. She followed Carol into the main portion of the ship's gym, taking a swig from her water. Both women approached the line of treadmills that stood along one wall each with its own screen.

Stella stepped up and started the machine. "Someone threw up on me today and you know what made it even worse? That smug McCoy just stood there and watched. He didn't bother to help, he didn't even say a word." Instead of the sympathy she was hoping for, Carol laughed again. Shaking her head, Stella cursed under her breath and notched the speed up.

Carol jogged easily next to her and Stella privately envied her ease. Stella hated running and only did it when Carol begged her to. "You honestly didn't think he was going to go easy on you? Didn't you hear anything about his reputation before you got on board?'

Of course she had. "That doesn't mean he can't give a girl a hand. God he insists on watching my every move, I can't even administer an aspirin without his approval. But when some string bean ginger loses his lunch all over the floor? Nope, he can't be bothered." This time when Carol laughed, Stella cracked a wry smile. The two women fell into comfortable silence as they ran, and Stella returned to her bumping rap music.

At length Stella slowed, sweat pouring down her temples and she pulled the headband off her wrist. Slowing down to a stop, Stella looped the headband over her head and slid it up, being sure to keep the sweep of bangs across her forehead. Absently she touched her hair, feeling the fine ridge of her always hidden scar. Feeling distracted, unhappy, and self-conscious Stella stepped back onto the treadmill and turned the speed up again. She hadn't been running for more than two minutes when two familiar faces appeared.

"Doctor Marcus." Captain Kirk's words fell deaf on Stella and she pulled her headphones out just as Carol nodded briefly to Kirk. The captain turned the full force of his baby blues on Stella and she jumped off the moving conveyer belt. "It's nice to see you again Doctor Gable," he said smoothly and Stella had more than a sneaking suspicion he was trying to be smooth.

Her lips twitched into a half smile. "You too, Captain," she said through her labored breath. Flicking her grey eyes to the man next to Kirk, Stella couldn't help but lift a curious eyebrow. Doctor McCoy shifted his weight and shot her an appraising glance, she didn't miss the way his eyes flitted down to her legs and back up, as if disapproving that she were anywhere but Medical. "Doctor," she said, inclining her head slightly.

McCoy seemed ruffled for a split second before he returned the gesture. "Gable," he replied, still refusing to acknowledge her title. Smug bastard, she thought, but shrugged off the insult and returned her attention to Kirk, unaware that McCoy had not stopped looking at her.

"Enjoying your first weeks with us?" Kirk enquired and Stella raised her fingers to her forehead, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Putting on the best smile she could, Stella ducked her head to catch her breath again. "Yeah," she replied and even she didn't believe her tone. "It's been, uhm, great," she blatantly lied. If Kirk knew he glossed over it and instead tugged slightly on his dark gray t-shirt. Again Stella looked over to McCoy, the words Ole Miss were printed across his shirt, and her lip curled up slightly. Ole Miss was great, but Vanderbilt is better, she thought cruelly.

"I'm sure that Doctor McCoy is keeping you busy," said Kirk, leaning against her treadmill.

McCoy's hazel eyes bore into her and Stella wished she could crawl back into the locker room and hide in the showers. Did that man come out of the womb glaring? "Very," she said, keeping her determined gaze on Kirk. "The sickbay on this ship is busy." And that was the truth.

Kirk graced her comment with a chuckle and Stella found that she liked the captain just a little more than before. "And how do you and Doctor Marcus know each other?" He enquired, bringing Carol into the conversation.

At last a true smile took her lips as she glanced at Carol. "We were roommates at Academy for three years," replied Stella and Carol nodded.

"Not that I saw Stella, she practically lived at the cadet hospital." Stella shrugged the half compliment off and the two women shared a private smile, and Stella recalled their many adventures at Academy. Those years wouldn't have been nearly as fun without Admiral Marcus's daughter getting them in and out of trouble. "We've been friends ever since."

Jim didn't seem to have an immediate response but he seemed to leave a lingering gaze on Carol. It was an expression Stella knew well, one that Carol received a lot. His blue eyes softened over her features and Stella privately wondered how long the Captain harbored feelings for her. Stella made a note to ask later. "A pleasure as always ladies," he said after a few more pleasantries and as soon as his and McCoy's backs were turned, Stella shook her head in open amazement.

"What is it with people on this ship?" She wondered out loud. Carol gave Stella's shoulder a shove. Sighing, she hopped back on the conveyer and picked up her run again.

Leo's head felt as though it had been put in a vice grip, beaten with a baseball bat and then run over by a freight train. Never again, he told himself as he always did, never again would he get drunk in engineering with Scotty and Jim. The deep innards of the ship tended to be a dangerous place and everytime Leo wandered there he stumbled back half out of his mind and three sheets to the wind. This hangover was particularly potent and he was a few minutes late as a result.

Not that this mattered. As the CMO he could come and go as he pleased. Pressing his fingers to his temples he tried to will away the misery as he waited for the turbolift to stop at Medical. The collar of his black undershirt pressed too tightly to his neck and as the doors opened and he walked into Medical, the collar only got tighter.

Doctor Gable was sitting on a high stool next to a bio bed with PADD in one hand and a stylus perched between her long fingers. That damned blue dress rode high up her thighs, revealing her long and slender legs. Peaches and cream skin covered her lithe muscles and Leo swallowed. Stella reached up and brushed a stray wisp of caramel hair behind her ear and her ponytail fell over her narrow shoulder the curls spilling down her chest. A look of concentration marred her pretty face as she counted off vials of what looked to be Cardassian flu vaccine.

Frowning, he forced himself to ignore her and turned to walk into his office. When Admiral Santori assigned Stella Gable to the _Enterprise_ he failed to mention how attractive the woman was. Groaning, he crumbled into his chair and lifted bleary eyes to see a massive stack of PADDs for his review along with the flashing reminder on his computer screen regarding the bacteria samples he'd been cultivating in the research lab. It was going to be a long shift even without patient care, but somehow he doubted they'd get through a day without some idiot or another getting into trouble.

All the while a wretched part of his mind wandered to Stella Gable's intense grey stare and long eyelashes. Leo's stomach rolled and he placed a hand over it, positive that he was going to throw up. Placing his spinning head in his hands, Leo tried to do to quell his raging hangover, prepare himself for the coming day, and push his errant and inexplicable thoughts of Stella Gable from his mind. The end result was not pretty and a few moments later he straightened up from the trash chute in his office, feeling better and worse at the same time.

He opened a cabinet and pulled one his gym towels out, wiping his mouth and using the reverse side to wipe his clammy forehead. The bourbon probably did nothing good for him, but the scotch always did him in. A gentle knock on the door startled Leo and he turned around to see the one person he didn't want to see standing in the doorway.

"I finished the vaccine inventory you requested, Sir," said Stella, holding a PADD in her hands. The words glossed into ears and even in his state of misery Leo didn't miss the sharp edge. Not that he necessarily blamed her, inventory wasn't exactly a glamorous job and it was certainly beneath Stella's pay grade. But when he made the assignment Leo intended it to be another of the tests he'd been putting her through for the last three weeks, all designed to push her limits. He'd intended this one to decipher how she did with menial and lowly tasks, and taking orders from authority.

He arched an eyebrow, she'd finished faster than he anticipated. "Set them on my desk Gable," he muttered. Leo couldn't explain why he didn't call her doctor, he felt uncomfortable using the term when he'd really yet to see her perform any serious medicine. Just as they always did, the harsh words from her dossier prodded him, reminding him that he was dealing with an unknown. He didn't know what she'd done to survive the _Narada_ incident, but Santori led him to believe it was pretty bad.

"Yes, sir," she replied and he watched her walk into the room. Stella's hips narrow hips swayed with each step and her ponytail swished behind her head. A pair of gold stud earrings shone in her earlobes, shaped like spades. Sharp grey eyes took him in and her passive lips turned into a frown. "Sir, you don't look well," she said edgily, as though she were nervous to say anything to him at all.

Leo's own grimace deepened and he waved her off. "I'm fine, Gable." The last thing he needed was his probationary doctor telling him he was unwell. But despite his implied dismissal she didn't move. Instead Stella crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's Doctor Gable, sir," she said sharply. Leo lifted his head and stared at her with barely contained incredulity. What did she just say? His expression must have conveyed his shock. But to her credit she didn't cower or flee. "My mandatory probation doesn't render my medical degree inert, I'm still a doctor and an officer on this ship. All I'm asking is for you to extend the same courtesy that you give to Doctors Baye and Bodie, and call me Doctor Gable." She explained.

Part of him wanted to throw her out for insubordination and part of him just wanted her to go away so he could nurse his hangover in peace. But even he couldn't deny that Stella rose slightly in his estimation through her simple but powerful request. His respect was to be earned, and even though he didn't trust her, Leo appreciated any woman that could stand up to him. The silence that fell between them unsettled Leo and he felt exposed under her direct gaze. "Check in with Nurse Pratchett, if she had nothing then find something to do," he muttered.

"Yes, sir," she replied and then unfurled her crossed arms, revealing a hypospray. The corner of her mouth lifted into a half smile. "For your, headache, Sir," her voice hedged over his diagnoses and Leo realized with a grimace that she was very, very aware how hungover he was.

"I'm fine," he repeated darkly.

Stella rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you are," she muttered under her breath as she turned and walked out. Leo's finger itched to shut the door to his office and talk her down for her blatant lack of respect, but he couldn't make himself do it. Stella paused in the doorway. She seemed to go and back and forth for a few seconds before she stepped back in. "Permission to speak freely?" She requested.

"My lack of consent hasn't stopped you so far," he muttered and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I get the impression that neither one of us is particularly excited to have me on board. My dossier is an impressive mess I'm sure and you don't trust me. But the fact of the matter is that for the next five months and one week I'm assigned to this ship and your command," she stated, standing up straight. "This probation doesn't diminish in any way the fact that I am an excellent physician, and I can be a great asset to this Medical Bay, if you'll let me."

For the second time in less than five minutes she'd stunned him into total silence. Leo's eyes slipped over her stoic expression and frowned. Stella waited for him to reply but when he failed to find the words, she shook her head, bit back a bitter laugh and walked out. So she knew what he'd been doing, and she'd just done a pretty sneaky thing, calling him out without actually saying it.

"Computer, shut the door," Leo muttered and his office slid shut, leaving him in peace and quiet. Another wave of nausea rolled over him and Leo groaned, he was going to be like this all day at the rate he was going. Acknowledging that he was no longer twenty two was unpleasant.

His hazel eyes flickered to the hypo sitting on his desk and then to the door. She'd taken a great risk, placing that spray on his desk. Picking it up he examined the label and he couldn't fight the grin that toyed at his lips. Maybe Stella did know more than she was letting on. "The Goyan cure for motion sickness, also an excellent relief for the common hangover," he muttered.

Leo didn't want to admit it, but he wouldn't have thought of using it. Sighing he uncapped the medication and lifted it to his neck. With a steady thumb he pushed down and the spray filtered into his blood. Ten minutes later he felt like a new man and he walked out to find Pratchett and Stella speaking in low voices over a PADD. Leo's lips quirked, Stella and his head nurse became fast friends.

The patient door to Medical opened and a single person walked in, an ensign who looked green at the gills and clutched a bleeding arm to his chest. Arching an eyebrow he looked at the kid and then over to Pratchett and Stella who were staring at the boy. Sighing, he decided to try giving her the benefit of the doubt, just to see what she could do. "Doctor Gable," he said, using the title for the first time. "You have a patient."

The look on her face was worth the concession. Her pink lips softened and her grey eyes widened for a split second before she nodded. Stella swiftly approached the kid. "Hi, I'm Doctor Gable, what happened?" Leo watched her lead the ensign over to an examination table.

"Doctor," said a voice in his ear. Looking over he found Pratchett standing next to him. "Should I go oversee Doctor Gable?"

Stella may have known the cure for a hangover and her dossier might say she was a good doctor, but Leo still didn't trust her. "Yeah," he said and turned away. Leo did not see the hurt expression on Stella's face when Pratchett came to hover over her. He walked back into his office to begin reviewing patient treatment notes, pushing the thought of Stella Gable from his mind. She may be beautiful, but in Leo's experience beautiful women were dangerous.

_White. Every surface surrounding Stella was stark white. It hurt her eyes and she blinked several times to readjust to her new surroundings. Groaning she rolled over and the hard floor was cool against her bare cheek. Every part of her body hurt. Sweeping her hands to either side of her chest, she pushed up to her knees. _

_ Her hazy mind tried to remember where she was or what happened, but her mind went blank. Stella moaned and lifted a hand to touch her pounding head. She wore all white, a white pair of drawstring pants and a white long sleeved shirt. Hissing in pain, she snapped her hand back and found her fingers were covered in blood, sticky and still warm. Stella was bleeding and she tried to feel out the cut that ran along her hairline. Pain tore through her head and she put her hands against her temples, bending over, screaming. _

_ Dropping her hands to the floor to settler herself, Stella screamed again and tumbled backwards, scrambling across the floor. Her back hit the wall hard and she began to furiously wring her hands, which were completely covered in blood. It spread up the sleeves of her shirt, staining her arms and across her chest. "No, no, no!" She screamed. _

Stella sat bolt upright, clawing at her hands and wrists. A scream died on her lips as she came to. Breathing hard, Stella clutched her chest, trying desperately to control her pounding heart. Cold sweat dripped down her forehead and matted her hair. Her messy ponytail stuck to the back of her neck and the front of her loose tank top clung to her chest and stomach. Groaning she pulled her knees up and buried her face against them, locking her hands on the back of her neck.

A dream, it was just a dream, she told herself emphatically. But it was more than a dream and it was more than a nightmare to her. This was every night of her life. Stella drew her hands back and hissed in pain when she looked down at her left wrist. A sure sign she needed to file her nails again, Stella inspected the scratch, deep enough to draw blood. She hadn't done that in a while.

Sighing, Stella threw her sheet and blanket off her bare legs and swung them over the side of the bed. Pausing for a long second, Stella waited a moment before bracing her palms on the bed and getting to her feet. Under her weight Stella's legs swayed uncertainly and she took her steps slowly, waiting for to readjust. Eventually she made it to her dresser and opened the drawer, revealing the med kit she kept with her at all times.

Sitting back on the edge of her bed, Stella ordered the lights to come on and she further inspected her wound. Maybe three inches long and very shallow, blood seeped up from the scratch. Wiping her hands down with disinfectant, Stella then sprayed the scratch with antibacterial sealant, it stung but she let it another nice reminder that she was awake.

In the back of her mind Stella told herself that self treatment was wrong, but she wasn't about to go wandering into Medical and explain herself to a sick bay that already thought she was insane. Quietly, she used the dermal regenerator and a few minutes later she inspected her handiwork with a sad smile, nobody would ever know. She put the kit away and turned to stare at her bed. Sighing she shook her head and walked over to her closet, changing into her blue dress. If she wandered around the ship in uniform most people assumed she fit in.

It was far from the truth, she thought as she slipped out of her quarters and started wandering. In her three weeks on the _Enterprise_ she'd never felt so alone and left out in her life. Stella always made friends easily but on this ship, she struggled. But hadn't all of her psychologists and psychiatrists warned Admiral Santori that Stella wouldn't assimilate well into a starship?

She'd begged to say on Melkanthor, but Santori refused to budge. She wasn't even a month into this assignment and she couldn't get off the ship fast enough. Crossing her arms over her chest she sighed and tried to remember the positive things. In her time aboard she'd made friends with Amelia Pratchett and Carol made a point to check in on Stella and she appreciated her friend, but it still wasn't enough. Not even winning the small victory of getting McCoy to call her doctor mattered. Aboard a starship with six hundred crew members Stella never felt more alone in her life.

She wandered for some time, somehow managing to end up in the bowels of the ship. Ever since Stella snapped out of her brief catatonic state she'd had nightmares, and when she couldn't sleep she just walked around aimlessly. She'd done it in San Francisco and she'd done it on Melkanthor. The benefit to both places, she thought wryly, was she had a beach and ocean waves to ease her disrest. Stella didn't have that aboard the _Enterprise_.

Solid ground never sounded as good as it did just then. Stella ached for the feeling of earth beneath her feet and a sky overhead. Those things were real, those things mattered.

It wasn't until she was deep in engineering did Stella realize she had no idea where she was. "Are you alright lass?" A voice startled her. Whirling around she found a shorter man standing in the doorway to what looked like an office. Over his shoulder she could see a large, old fashioned dry erase board covered in markings. He wore a red shirt with stripes indicating he was a lieutenant commander and in operations.

His light eyes observed her in a careful manner and his short, light brown hair was a slight mess. "I'm," fine she almost said. But his face softened at her bewildered expression and Stella felt drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain. "Lost," she admitted with a sheepish expression.

"New on the ship then?" he asked. The man's Scottish accent rolled pleasantly off his tongue and Stella immediately liked him. With a few easy strides he walked up to her and held out a hand. "Montgomery Scott, Chief Engineering Officer," he introduced himself with a smile.

"Scotty?" She repeated the oft used nickname she'd heard Doctor McCoy mention a few times.

The man chuckled. "Aye, my reputation must have spread far and wide then," he teased and Stella flushed. "And who might you be, little wanderer?"

Ducking her head to hide her slight embarrassment, Stella couldn't help her grin. "I'm Doctor Stella Gable," she explained and then grasped his hand. They shook and he then crossed his arms over his chest, still smiling.

"So you're McCoy's new chew toy?" He enquired. Tilting her head to the side, Stella regarded Scotty for a second before she started to laugh. Nodding she wrung her hands together.

"Guilty." Scotty clapped her on the shoulder and offered a surprisingly humorous and pitying look.

"Well, then you definitely need a drink Lass, come on in," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to what she suspected was his office. Letting out a sigh of relief, she nodded and followed him inside. The whiteboard, it turned out, was covered in massive equation that she could never hope to understand.

Scotty's desktop wasn't visible, there were too many notepads, pens, coffee mugs, PADDs and pieces of paper obscuring the surface. A flight suit and an engineering jumpsuit lay over the back of one office chair and in the warm light, Stella could see a long row of framed pictures on the credenza behind his desk. "It's a bit of a mess," he admitted.

But Stella looked around the warm office and smiled. "It's perfect," she replied and took the seat he offered. A minute later and she wrapped her fingers around a cool glass of whiskey and took a sip. The liquid burned on its way down her throat, her eyebrow went up. "This is the real stuff," she noted and Scotty nodded, plunking down into his desk chair and kicking his feet up to his desktop.

"Aye," he replied. "I don't break it out often, but you lassie, looked like you could use a good drink."

The simple gesture overwhelmed Stella and she nodded, fighting off her tears. "You're pretty perceptive Scotty," she noted and he chuckled, holding his glass aloft for a second.

"Engineer, psychologist, they're pretty much the same thing," he noted and she laughed again. Stella felt better than she had in weeks and she sank deeper into her chair. "Now then, I've only heard a sliver about you from the captain and McCoy hasn't said a word about you at all. How about you tell me how a pretty thing like you ended up under his reign of tyranny."

Stella took a drink and savored the wonderful taste. "Well, it all started with a mandatory transfer order and a bad case of Orion Shingles," she started. They talked for hours, and when Stella at last found her way back to her room, she curled up under the covers to try and get another three hours of sleep before her next shift. Scotty told her to come by whenever she wanted and said he'd be off shift at the same time as her and promised to introduce her to some of his friends. As she drifted off to sleep a small smile took her face. It wasn't much, but a glass of real whiskey and the promise of non-medical personnel cheered her up immensely.

**A/N: Rude McCoy! Sassy Stella! Scotty!**

**Next chapter should feature more McCoy/Stella confrontation. **

**Leave some love! Much love - Kappa**


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